


Hold Me

by Marrilyn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bruises, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Helpless Rowena, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pain, Rowena Whump, Rowena is a Brat, Whump, minor description of injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:24:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14188920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marrilyn/pseuds/Marrilyn
Summary: Rowena has been tortured and reader takes care of her.





	Hold Me

"Hold still." 

Rowena did as she was told for exactly ten seconds. Then she flinched again. 

"Damn it, Rowena!" 

Her face was more purple than creamy, bruises of various shades and sizes marring her skin. A trail of dried blood surrounded the cut on her right cheek. You tried to clean it, dabbing around the injury with a soft, wet cloth. You had done your best not to press too hard. Rowena was in pain; the last thing you wanted was to add more to it. 

"Would it kill you to be a wee more gentle?" she complained, accent growing thicker with every word. 

"I  _am_ being gentle." 

"You're clearly not, if I'm in pain." 

"You're in pain 'cause there's bruises everywhere. I'm being careful, but I can't do the impossible." 

You brought the cloth to her face again. Rowena's face wrinkled with pain, lips slightly parting to let out a hiss. She slapped your hand, making you drop the wet fabric to her lap. You sighed. You loved Rowena, you really did, but there were times when she could be impossible. Like a child on a mission to annoy their parents out of nothing but sheer boredom. 

"Seriously?" you asked, shooting her a deadpan look. 

"You hurt me," she said. 

"I'm trying to clean you up." 

"And hurting me whilst doing so." 

You took a deep breath, urging yourself to remain calm. Arguing would solve nothing. "Would you, please, just let me do this? The sooner I'm done, the sooner you'll stop hurting." 

"Do you even know what you're doing?" 

"I've taken care of you before," you reminded her. You didn't like the implication. Rowena had always been a difficult patient, but she'd never had a genuine complaint about your treatment. You'd always made sure she was well taken care of. 

Rowena sighed. She looked you in the eyes. "I've been tortured for over three hours. I don't…" 

 _I don'_ _t want to be in pain anymore._  

Earlier today, the two of you had had an argument. Sam and Dean had called and, as usual, required assistance on a difficult case involving a murderous witch. Rowena had said yes. You had voted no. Even though she was at full power again, she could still get hurt. Lucifer could still get to her. Rowena wouldn't listen; she'd ignored your pleas to stay and had called you overprotective. You, in turn, had accused her of being reckless. She'd turned on her heel and slammed the door on her way out. You'd let her go. If she wanted to put herself in danger, so be it. 

A few hours later, Sam and Dean had driven her home. The killer, as it turned out, hadn't been a witch, but rather a rogue hunter, his victims innocent witches. First he would torture them. Then, when they started begging for death, he would kill them. He'd intended to do the same to Rowena, only she wouldn't beg. She'd endured worse. The hunter may have been experienced, but compared to Lucifer, he was an amateur. He hadn't let than stop him from trying harder. 

You should have gone with her. If you'd been there, you could have helped her. The hunter would not have been able to sneak up on her with you on the lookout. 

You took Rowena's hand into both of yours. "I know, sweetheart," you said softly. You brought her hand to your lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm not trying to hurt you, I swear. I just wanna help." 

With the help of her newly restored magic, she would have already healed herself. But the torture had taken a toll on her. It would take a few days for her to regain her strength. If she wanted to heal herself, she needed to be in the right state to use her magic. 

Rowena nodded. She let you clean her face with no protests, only flinching and letting out a hiss here and there, when you would tap at a particularly painful bruise. Disinfecting the cut, you moved to check up on her other injuries. Lucky for her, her clothing had protected her from anymore open wounds. All that was left were bruises, some darker, deeper, and some a mere shade of violet, barely visible on the paleness of her skin. 

You helped Rowena undress. You were careful, gently pulling every item off her. The hunter had beaten her badly. When he'd grown tired of punching and kicking her, he'd moved on to other means. A fire poker had been his favorite. Bruises were scattered all over Rowena's body, marking her like stripes on a tiger; each distinct, inflicting special kind of pain. You wanted to weep at the sight of deep purple covering her torso. Her stomach had borne the worst brunt of the beating. 

Prodding gently, you sighed in relief to find no broken bones. It was a miracle none of her ribs were broken, or even cracked. You helped Rowena into a long-sleeved, red silky nightgown, and, wrapping an arm around her middle to keep her on her feet, took her to the bedroom. Tucking her into bed, you went to take a quick shower. She waited for you as you left her, lying on her back, eyes trailing your every move as you walked over and joined her under the covers. 

She was so delicate, so fragile. Even the lightest touch could bring her pain. There would be no tight hugs for a few days. Your heart ached at the thought. You needed your physical displays of affection, craved them like a vampire craves blood. But more than that, you needed Rowena to be okay. You didn't want to hurt her. Holding her hand was more than you could ask for, given her condition. 

Your fingers twined with hers. She squeezed almost to the point of pain. For someone so tiny, Rowena was strong. 

"How are you feeling?" you asked. 

"Like hell," she replied. 

"I'm sorry." 

"It's not your fault. You didn't do this to me." 

"I shouldn't have let you go alone." 

Rowena turned her head to look you in the eyes. "Don't blame yourself, darling. It is I who acted a bit…" She sighed and, rolling her eyes, said, "recklessly."  

You chuckled. It must have taken a lot out of her to admit it. "You weren't wrong, either," you said. If she could be honest, so could you. "I  _am_  overprotective." 

She had been ran out of her own home and forced to leave her child behind. Starved. Tortured. Betrayed. For centuries, she had rarely known real kindness. People had taken advantage of her, treated her like trash, like she didn't matter. She had been forced to beg and offer her body in exchange for safety. There were times when not even that would work; your free hand clenched into a fist at the thought of the Loughlins, anger boiling in your veins. She had been forced to kill her stepchild. And the next person she trusted, the devil, had killed her – twice. The first time she was just angry. The second had left her in shambles. The trauma would never go away for as long as she was alive. 

You promised yourself to never let anything like that happen again. Rowena was difficult in so many ways, but she was also sweet. Amara had been wrong – she had a capacity for kindness. You just had to give her a chance to show it. Hard life had taught her to be guarded, to never let herself feel. Feelings were weakness. Love was weakness. Coldness was a way of life. It had taken you months to get through to her, to earn her trust. It had taken even more for her to realize she was falling in love with you. Being with her required patience and dedication. She had to be shown that she was loved in order to open up. 

"You've been through so much and I don't want you to get hurt," you continued. 

You just wanted her to be safe. Lucifer was still out there. If he was to find out she's alive, he would waste no time in going after her. There was no doubt in your mind his third attempt at her life would leave her in an even worse state of mind. Arthur Ketch was back as well, torturing and killing every witch in his path in order to get to her. He may have been a mere human, but he was no amateur. He had a way of getting what he wanted. Rowena had learned it the first time he had gotten his hands on her. The Winchesters didn't care what happened to her. They were ready to leave her powerless against Lucifer just so they could easily kill her if she was to do something they disapproved of. Sam had only given her the page because he pitied her. If it was up to Dean, she could drop dead. But that didn't stop them from seeking her assistance every now and then. She wasn't good enough to be helped, but she was good enough to be taken advantage of. 

You were the only person Rowena had, the only one who loved her for  _her,_  who didn't want to use her and then discard her like a piece of trash. She was a person. She hurt and felt and loved, just like everyone else. She  _mattered._  If to nobody else, to you. 

"You don't have to worry about me, dear," Rowena said with a small smile. 

"It's kinda hard not to." 

"I will be alright. I promise. I have my power back. No one can hurt me again." 

"Someone did." 

"This is nothing," she said nonchalantly. "Been through it a thousand times. They torture me, I heal myself, and it's behind me." 

You tightened your hold on her hand. "You're still hurt." 

"It's just a few bruises. I will be fine. It's temporary," she said. "I promise you, it looks worse than it is." 

"I still don't like it." 

"I know, darling. This was a mistake. I let him sneak up on me. I suppose getting my power back made me a bit reckless. I'll be more careful next time." 

You nodded in acknowledgment of her words. "And I won't snap again. I acted like a brat," you said with a chuckle. Instead of throwing a tantrum, you could have simply talked to her. You could have explained why you didn't want her to go in a calm, reasonable manner. If you had, maybe none of this would have happened.

"A bit," Rowena teased. "But I understand. You were just concerned." 

You smiled. "Does anything hurt?" 

"A bit," she replied. "Nothing I can't handle." 

"You gonna be okay? With what happened, I mean." 

She frowned, confusion spread all over her face. Then the exact thing you were asking dawned on her. "Aye," she said. "This wasn't…  _that_  bad." 

It wasn't like what Lucifer had done to her. Nothing could ever be more traumatic than that. 

"Darling?" Rowena said after a few moments spent in silence. 

"Yes?" 

"Hold me." 

"Are you sure? I could hurt you." 

"I'm very sure." 

"Okay. C'mere." 

Turning on her side, she nestled into your chest. A few pained hisses left her as she did so, but she assured you she was fine. A little bit of pain was nothing for someone who had gone through a torturous death. You wrapped an arm around her with utmost tenderness, careful not to aggravate the bruises on her back. Your chin rested on the top for her head. Her hair was like silk, soft against your skin. 

This was the way it was supposed to be. You and Rowena, together. Safe, protected, two witches in love against the world that hated them.  _Fuck the world,_  you thought. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered but the two of you. Everything would pass. People would die. The world would go out in flames. Your love, on the other hand, was eternal. 

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my lovely editor OswinTheStrange for writing out fantasies with me, which inspired the ending of this fanfiction. You're awesome! ♥ Also, huge thanks to my wonderful friend BewitchedSquirrel for talking with me and helping me come up with scenes when I was struck with a bit of a writer’s block. You rock! ♥


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